Entries Tagged 'Final Girl FIlm Club' ↓

First off, the bad news: there will be no new episode of The Scare-ening this week.

I KNOW. It'll be back next week, I assure you. Tonight, however, both my co-host Heidi and I are attending a screening of The Human Centipede. I'm excited! I really used to love playing the old Atari videogame Centipede, and I'm pretty sure this movie is an adaptation of it. I can't believe they've given it the big-screen treatment. It's not as if the game really had a ton of back story.

Kidding! Everyone knows that The Human Centipede concerns a mad scientist who fuses together the mouths and anuses of a bunch of living people together in order to form...you know, a human centipede. I have to say, that's not at all the type of thing I imagined when I played Centipede so long ago. I am looking forward to it, I think, kind of sort of in a way. I mean, it almost begs to be seen, yeah? I just hope there's more to it than shock value, and I don't leave the theater depressed.

In other news, it's time for the Film Club Choosening! PikachuCity of the Living Dead, I choose you!

So much crying in this post, geez.

Yes folks, I say we get our Italian zombie movie on with Lucio Fulci's 1980 grossterpiece, City of the Living Dead- or as you may know it, The Gates of Hell. Christopher George! Catriona MacColl! YEAH!

The due date is Monday, May 24. If you write about it, shoot me a link to your piece at stacieponder (at) gmail (dot) com. Please! Please please! If you want your post to be included in the Film Club, your entry must link back to me. Whether it's my specific post about the movie in question or just my site in general, it doesn't matter. You don't have to say anything big, just mention my site or the Club or what have you- but if there's no link, I'm not going to post your piece, sorry. I love that people want to participate, so I've been posting whatever links are sent to me, but sometimes this results in writers sending in their reviews from five years ago. That's fine, and I don't mind if someone does that, but the original post needs to be edited to include a link to me. I feel like a douchey linkwhore bringing it up, but it's really the only Film Club rule. I feel a bit better knowing that I'm not actually a douchey linkwhore, and that if the Club didn't have any rules, there would be complete and total chaos. People writing about different movies, people writing backwards, people setting their computers on fire and listening to rock and roll...folks, we don't want that.

You know what people love? People love Jack Hill's Spider Baby. It's got a certain something something that appeals to the monster kid in all of us (yes, I'm speaking for all of us). It's not just a movie one admires, hates, or feels decidedly "meh" about; no, Spider Baby (1968) is a movie you want to hug. What can I say? I do so love a family of homicidal cuckoo nutsos.

The cuckoo nutsos are the Merrye clan, consisting of siblings Ralph (Sid Haig), Elizabeth (Beverly Washburn), and Virginia (Jill Banner). The Merrye "kids" suffer from a genetic disorder that causes mental deterioration over the course of a lifetime. They're adults but they act like children; well, children who are into rape and murder and stuff. Their exaggerated innocence belies their violent tendencies- they'll smile sweetly one moment and stab you viciously the next. Those Merryes, they're so unpredictable!

Their chauffeur and guardian Bruno (Lon Chaney, Jr.) is well aware of their condition, how it's eventually going to render the siblings feral. He keeps them tucked away from society, up in the Merrye mansion on the hill. It's not unlike the Bates residence in Psycho; it would be a nice enough home in most circumstances, but here- untended and isolated- it simply looms menacingly over everything below. It's the kind of place that haunts neighborhood kids, the kind that makes them dare one another to go knock on the door. Adults know to stay away.

Unfortunately, deliverymen must do their jobs. When one (Mantan Moreland) comes a-knockin' and "Uncle Bruno" isn't home, the Merryes are left to their own devious devices. Virginia plays her "spider game" (it involves a lot of poking with knives) and ends up with one of the delivery man's ears to keep and call her own.

Distant relatives Peter (Quinn Redeker) and Emily (Carol Ohmart) show up at the Merrye manse with a lawyer in tow, hoping to prove the children mentally unstable and seize the family residence and money. It would certainly not be a difficult task for Peter and Emily to prove their case, but unfortunately Bruno loses control of the children. Overnight, events quickly spiral out of control and the Merryes' visitors end up traumatized and/or dead. Realizing that their isolated life on the hill is no longer a possibility, Bruno does what anyone would do: he blows 'em all up, ending the Merrye Syndrome once and for all. But is it really over? Mua ha ha.

So just what is it about Spider Baby that everyone loves so much? Perhaps it's that Spider Baby is a film that's truly the sum of its parts. It works as a gothic nightmare movie- from the cobwebs in the basement to the dead daddy kept upstairs to the feral relatives living below the basement to the idiot man-child lurking in the dumb waiter, Spider Baby is downright creepy at times. There's no denying its obvious influence on films such as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, House of 1000 Corpses, and even Hell Night. The loving family of killers who mind their own business until you intrude on their turf have become a horror movie staple (too much so, in fact: if I never see another modern "crazed cannibal family" movie again, I'll be happy), but in the late-60s they were still a frightening novelty.

Then there's the undercurrent of eroticism running through the film. As Emily, Carol Ohmart turns in a performance that screams "broad"- and believe me, I mean that in the best possible way. Maybe it's her hair, peroxided within an inch of its life, or maybe it's her random dance in black lingerie...whatever it is, Emily is all no-nonsense, worldly-wise sex appeal.

At the opposite end of the spectrum is young Virginia, the girl who emulates and consumes bugs, captivating her victims with both a sexuality that's more deliberate than she'd have you believe, and some good old-fashioned rope. Everybody who watches Spider Baby comes away from it in love with Virginia. Yes, I'm once again speaking for everybody.

Of course, you can't talk about this film without talking about the humor. Well, you can, but you'd be neglecting a large part of its charm. The opening credits, featuring a "Monster Mash"-style theme song sung by Chaney himself, clue us in that we're going to have fun with these kooky cannibals. And we do: they crack jokes and even bizarrely mug at the camera. It all works so well thanks to the performances. Everyone dives into his or her role with complete abandon and glee; the Merryes are hilariously over-the-top, while Chaney turns in a surprisingly heartfelt performance as their kindly, long-suffering caretaker. There's an Addams Family vibe to the entire affair, and in the end we're left to wonder who's more horrifying: the sadistic, murderous family on the hill, or their greedy, square, city-dwelling relatives.

Monday is Ye Olde Filme Club Day. How is something from the future "olde", you ask? Do not question my science. It's totally sound.

The point is, Monday is the day the whole entire blogosphere (or, at least 5 people) will hold hands and talk about the 1968 cult fave Spider Baby. Are you part of the whole entire blogosphere? Then write up a l'il sumpin' and shoot me a link at stacieponder at gmail.com. Even if you're not part of the whole entire blogosphere, you should still give Spider Baby a go and chime in somewhere with your thoughts...even if it's just at your local pharmacy.

Besides, you have no excuse! You can watch the movie for free free freeright here.

Gather 'round, yon children, as the Final Girl Film Club takes a wondrous trip back to a time when black & white was where it wuz at and Sid Haig had a hairless face! Lo, my friends, let us watch and discuss Jack Hill's 1968 blackcomedisploitation classic...SPIDER BABY! Or, The Maddest Story Ever Told. Hey, whatever floats your hereditary neurological disorder.

It's on Netflix instant watch and available for cheap in all the world's finest stores. Why, I got a copy on VHS for the low, low price of one dollar! Or, The Maddest Price of One Hundred Pennies.

EDITED TO ADD: You can download Spider Baby for free from the Internet Archive. Now you have no excuse not to participate. For that, you can thank reader The Dreaded Rhubarb!

True (and possibly gross) story: A long time ago in a galaxy...well, in this galaxy, I lived with someone. One fine evening this so-called Co-Habi-Tron 2000 got a stomach bug and barfed. Barfed on the way to the bathroom. Now, I've not had a stomach bug since 1st grade and I've never had food poisoning. I'm not a vomiter, unless...yes, there have been some alcohol-related times but what can you do? I live on the edge, and I always fight for my right to party.

Ahem.

Anyway, this sudden display of not being in control of one's body completely freaked me out. It broke my brain. Really. I became paranoid about catching the stomach bug. I spent the next 2 weeks fixated on perceived feelings of nausea: "Am I gonna throw up? Am I gonna...yes, I think...ohh...I'm...eh, never mind." I never got that bit of flu (awesome) and I never barfed, but no matter: as I said...brain broken. I got paranoid about eating in restaurants for fear of food poisoning. As everyone else in the world has had it at one time or another, I grilled everybody: What's it like? How did you know you had it? How long did you have it? Where did you eat? Whenever someone at work said he had the "flu", I had to ask if it was a cold or a puke thing. I couldn't watch anyone barfing in movies or shows or what have you.

I don't know why it happened or why it continued so long. It was ridiculous. Then all of a sudden I was better. Brains are funny that way, I guess.

Another true (less gross, more juvenile) story: There is an office building along the highway near my hometown that has windows on one side laid out like this:

To me, this place has become known as The Tit Building. Generally people don't know what building I'm talking about when I mention it as a point of reference...but I cannot unsee the word "TIT" spelled out in its windows. It baffles me that it got past the blueprint stage.

I tell you these two anecdotes not simply because my life is so incredibly fascinating...no! I tell you because both anecdotes came to mind while I was watching Uzumaki (2000), the tale of a small Japanese town that falls under the curse of the vortex.

It all starts innocently enough. People "act a bit funny". A man spends several hours quietly videotaping the swirl of a snail's shell. Soon enough, however, many of the citizens of Kurouzu are completely obsessed with the vortex pattern- like, obsessed to the point that they begin to harm themselves in some incredibly grotesque ways. Everywhere they look, they see the spirals. Their brains are broken by the curse, and the only hope, it seems, is to remove all signs of the spiral from their environment. That sounds easy enough, but ask yourself this: is a life without Pecan Spins a life worth living?

Uzumaki starts out as a bit of a kooky fairy tale; the music is exceedingly incongruous with the action, and it almost plays as a horror-comedy. By the time the words "There is still a spiral in your ear..." are spoken, however, it crosses over into the land of dread and mindfuckery. In a word, it's creepy.

None of it is really explained, so you're going to be left with questions in the end, like: Why is the town cursed, exactly? And...how do people turn into giant snails...? But this is an imaginative, bizarre just take the ride kind of horror film, and as such it's both unsettling and entertaining. The idea that thoughts can become obsessive to the point where they lead you to break as many of your own bones as possible- and you think it's a capital plan- is truly terrifying. I'm glad I got over my weird puke obsession when I did.

Yes yes, I'm sure Junji Ito's manga that provides the basis for this film is better than the film itself. I've never read it, although I know I should. And I will, one of these days. You don't need to remind me, Bossy!

...let's get WEIRD! For the next meeting of the ol' Final Girl Film Club, let's all try to wrap our minds around the 2000 film Uzumaki.

from the manga by Junji Ito

I've never seen it or read the comic it's based on, but both have long been on my list. I say it's time to make the leap from dreams to reality! From the Netflix description (yes, y'all, it's available there):

Discover Akiro Higuchi's groundbreaking film, Uzumaki (which means vortex), an aptly named masterpiece about a town gripped with fear because of the menacing march of an otherworldly force that threatens to destroy the area and turn its residents into ghastly snails. Can a young girl, Kirie (Eriko Hatsume), and her paramour, Shuichi (Fhifan), save their homes and neighbors? Or are they the next victims of the unstoppable force?

Mmm, a big helping of Japanese cinema with a side of wackadoo. I'm so excited I could puke!

The film: Uzumaki (2000)The due date: Monday, March 1

You know the drill...link to me in your write-up, then shoot yer URL to me at stacieponder(at)gmail(dot)com.

I want to make out with Mario Bava's Black Sabbath. I want Black Sabbath to like me in that sort of desperate way, the way you feel when you're smitten with someone who's so much cooler than you are, someone who's prettier and has an accent and manages to command a room by simply walking into it. Mmm, Black Sabbath. I tre volti della paura. The Three Faces of Fear. Whatever you call it, this 1963 movie has style and atmosphere and it's an anthology and yes, an accent...so what's not to love? Nothin', that's what! There, now that that's settled...

Bava does away with any attempt at a typical lame framing narrative by simply having star Boris Karloff stand in front of a candy-colored screen and let us know that...well, that we're going to watch a movie. It will be a journey into the supernatural, we'll be scared, etc etc. It's all rather trippy and mood-setting, but it's a bit of a bummer that Karloff's wonderful voice is dubbed over in Italian. Still, it's good that we don't waste any time before getting down to business.

THE TELEPHONE

Preceding Black Christmas, When a Stranger Calls, Scream, and all the other great terror-on- the-telephone flicks, this segment features Rosy (Michele Mercier), a young woman who comes home one fine evening and immediately receives a series of threatening phone calls.

As the calls coincide with the prison escape of her violent ex-boyfriend, she's rightfully anxious about the whole "You're gonna die tonight!" thing. To ease her mind, Rosy calls Mary (Lidia Alfonsi) and asks her to come over. It turns out that Mary is another of Rosy's exes, and she may also have nefarious plans for Mary...

Mua ha ha! There are several twists and turns in The Telephone, and it all zips by like one of those summer breezes that makes you feel fine. There's a minimal amount of dialogue, the action is confined to a single set, and it's pure tension barfed up on screen. We all know that tension is best when it's barfed up, so it goes without saying that The Telephone is a success. Before the premise overstays its welcome, we're whisked away to the magical land of...

THE WURDALAK

A family, living way out in the woodsy middle of nowhere, awaits the return of their patriarch Gorca (Boris Karloff), anxious that he may have succumbed to the curse of the wurdulak, a type of vampire who craves the blood of its loved ones. When Gorca finally arrives (bearing the head of an eeeevil cursed Turk), it's difficult for everyone to discern whether or not he's been transformed...what's not difficult to discern, however, is that Gorca alarmingly resembles something a cat would cough up.

So begins a long night of waiting and suspecting- who, if anyone, has become a wurdulak? Wouldn't you like to be a wurdulak, too? Again, Bava employs minimal yap yap; there are lengthy passages, silent save for a constant wind, throughout the segment that create a feeling of creeping dread. When these periods of quiet are broken by the sound of a dog howling or, even more frighteningly, the pleas of a child thought dead, the effect is startling.

Bava truly captures the feel of a gothic fairytale in The Wurdulak; the colors and the artifice of the sets (interspersed with real outdoor locations) make it play out like a Hammer film by way of Dario Argento. The pace may be slow, but the visuals are scrumptious. It's tempting to simply post the entire segment frame by frame, but that would perhaps imply some sort of mania on my behalf, so here are a mere few of my favorites.

THE DROP OF WATER

The first two stories in Black Sabbath may leave you riding high, but it only gets better: Bava saves the best for last.

A nurse is called to the home of a recently-deceased countess; the body needs to be dressed and the resident housekeeper is way too skeezed out to do it. And who can blame her? If I walked into that bedroom and was confronted by this visage:

...I'd probably just go squat in a corner and cry.

It seems that the reclusive countess was heavy into séances and the like, trying for whatever reason to make contact with the spirit world. The local populace believes that it was this tinkering with ghosts that killed her, not the reported heart attack.

Nursie doesn't buy into the mumbo jumbo and quickly does her duty, pausing only to swipe a ring off the corpse's finger. As you may have guessed, this is a big karmic no-no. The countess doesn't look kindly on this from her perch in the afterlife, and the nurse (who I kept pretending was actually somehow Diana Scarwid) soon learns that pre-grave robbing is not a good idea. In a word*, The Drop of Water is hair-raisingly creepy, outright terrifying, and more than worth your ticket price to Black Sabbath.

In a bizarre, brief, 4th wall-breaking outro, Karloff lets us know that he hopes we enjoyed our journey into the supernatural. Yes, Boris, I truly did. Black Sabbath is a true Creep Show, all old school storytelling and oodles of atmosphere. I like it so very much...I just hope it likes me back.

Hmm, what a bold statement to make in my post title, no? NO! Because for the next round of Film Club joy, I want to watch Black Sabbath (or, as the Eye-talians call it, I tre volti della paura). Those of you who have seen it know that it is indeed an awesome movie. Those of you who will be seeing it for the first time- well, you're in for a treat.

This 1963 anthology film by Mario Bava stars Boris Karloff. That is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Don't forget, y'all: come Monday, all the cool kids will be twirlin' 'round the flag pole and discussing The Wicker Man. Lest you care to find yourself the laughing stock of your friends, your neighbors, their pets, The Internet, and all the world over, then give it a watch!

Those who write about it can send links to their reviews to me at stacieponder at gmail dot com dot org dot ca dot dot dot.

So this is it, my big 1000th post. Though I really have nothing profound to say (shock), I couldn't let the moment pass by without acknowledging it somehow. I marked the occasion of my 500th post with a rather lengthy entry describing Final Girl's humble roots and highlighting a few of my favorite posts. Wow, I just noticed that my 500th hit on November 20, 2007- almost two years ago to the day. That's surely significant of something...? Probably not. Anyway, what's happened in the two years since my last major milestone?

Since post #500...

...I think we can all agree that one of the best things that's happened around here has been the introduction of Briefcase Woman, who came along one fine day in May, 2008 to demonstrate the joys that can be had when one votes. Since then, she's spread her enthusiasm all over this blog like...like...well, let's honor her origins and vote for an apt simile, shall we?

...the Final Girl Film Club keeps chugging along, powered by the awesomeness of The Internet. We've covered a whopping 18 films since post 500, and there's no sign of stopping yet. Next up: The Wicker Man on December 14. What movies would you like to nominate for FGFC coverage? Before you answer, take a quick peek at my reviews archive to make sure I haven't already reviewed it.

...I made a movie- a few, really. Ludlow will be ready for mass consumption soon, a thought that's as terrifying as it is metaphorical boner-inducing.

...I've written 85 columns for AMC (holy crapping crap) and I've started contributing to Rue Morgue magazine. Both make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

...this little site just keeps on keepin' on, mostly business as usual. Reviews, stupid pictures, blah blah blah. As you know, I love Final Girl more than Donkey Kong loves throwing barrels at plumbers. While I could write exclusively for myself and be somewhat satisfied (being an only child grants me a +15 to both mana regeneration and my ability to entertain myself) (sorry, I've been playing Dragon Age: Origins) (it's so fucking awesome)...well, it wouldn't be the same without you guys reading it. Again, I say hooray!

Okay, now tell me what's been your favorite post or feature or whatevs here on Final Girl so I feel pretty.

What? I'm allowed to fish for ego-stroking compliments every 500 posts, that's the rule I made up.

Wow kids, sorry it's taken so long for me to pick the next...pick for Film Club. What matters now is that I've gone and done it. Behold, for I'll say it now:

The Wicker Man (1973)!

Please note, I'm talking about the original version, the Christopher Lee and his crazy hair edition- NOT the Nicolas Cage in a bear suit remake. Was Nicolas Cage in a bear suit in the remake? I think he was...or he kicked a bear-suited person in the face or something like that. I don't know, I haven't seen it. Maybe I will...maybe I won't. But no matter the direction my whims take me in the future, this installment is all about the '70s, baby. Netflixers, click here!

The film: The Wicker Man (1973)The due date: Monday, December 14

As always, email your review to me at: stacieponder at gmail dot com. Be sure to include a link to Final Girl in your post!

Oh, Film Clubbers, I'm guessing that some of you (if not all of you) had a hard time making it through Slaughter High (1986). It's not a great movie by any means, or even good. However, it has a special place in my heart and of this I am not ashamed. I'm not ashamed I tells ya!

Marty Rantzen is a high school nerd who's picked on and humiliated by all the cool kids. An April Fool's joke goes about 50 miles too far, and Marty ends up in the hospital covered in horrible burns. Ten years later, the cool kids all receive invitations to a class reunion...and one by one, they all die die die.

I'm not going to delve into gobs of details recapping the plot, because Slaughter High follows the standard slasher movie formula: a traumatic event breaks someone's brain, then that someone seeks revenge on the perpetrators of said event. The film hit towards the end of the slasher heyday, and it's undoubtedly a fairly lethargic entry in the genre. Still, as I said...I kind of love this movie. Those of you who've seen it may not understand how that's possible, so I'll make with why:

The score is by a slumming Harry Manfredini, who utilizes his famous Friday the 13th work for a sting.

Slaughter High comes to the world courtesy of the Sultan of Sleaze, producer Dick Randall...who also gave the world a little something called Pieces. That should tell you all you need to know before you even press PLAY! Randall briefly appears in Slaughter High as film agent Manny, who's got a Pieces poster on the wall of his office.

The "prank gone awry" in the film is one of the most horrible in all of slasherdom: after being lured into nudity with the promise of sex, Marty is photographed and laughed at by his classmates...then he's subjected to some mild electrocution...then he's given a swirly...then he's given a fake joint that causes him to barf...then he's burned with nitric acid and fire. You can't really blame him for being a little pissed off.

This movie features the most egregious use evarrrrr of actors far too old to play high schoolers as high schoolers: Caroline Munro, for example, was 36 here- a couple of decades beyond her school years.

Not only are the actors too old for their roles, they're too British. Bad American accents abound, while their native accents peek through from time to time.

These characters have got to count amongst the stupidest in all of horror movie history. There's a killer on the loose, but they're constantly separating and spending time having sex and taking baths. Their big escape plan involves riding a fucking tractor to safety- surely the killer could never catch up to a vehicle traveling 5 miles an hour.

The sex scene is AWESOME. Stella, who's a leopard print-clad Markie Post-by way of Jersey-type, seduces Frank with this hotness: " I wanna go to bed with you, Frank." It works, and when she asks for a little mid-coital dirty talk, Frank responds with "Uhh...tits...screw...tits..." It's the best sex scene EVER.

The aforementioned bath-taker is Shirley, who gives one of my favorite bad line readings of all time when the gang first arrives at the reunion: "C'mon you guys, let's par-deeeeeeee!" I want to make it my ringtone and my unholy life partner. Is that possible?

One of the elaborate killings involved a poisoned can of beer, which causes the drinker's guts to burst through his abdomen Alien-style. Never mind trying to figure out what kind of poison could possibly do that- let's try to solve the mystery of how the poison got inside a sealed beer can!

Oh yes, the deaths in Slaughter High are indeed elaborate. Running acid through the sewer lines just in case someone decides to take a bath (good thing that panned out!), the poisoned beer, a bed rigged to electrocute whoever's in it just in case someone decides to sleep or have sex (good thing that panned out!)...the set ups are so complicated and impractical that they make Final Destination jealous.

Now, all these bullet points are either going to drive you to the hallowed halls of Slaughter High, or leave you yelling "Fuck that noise!" I suppose it has to do with tolerance levels and the like. Me? I've got a pretty high one. Read on to find out what the rest of the Film Clubbers think...lots of first-timers this month, which is awesometastic. Now let's par-deeeeeeee!

It's time to choose another movie for the communal experience known as The Final Girl Film Club. I am super duper triple dipple wicked mega excited about October Shocktober's pick...almost as excited as I am about Shocktober itself! I'm heading back to my slasher roots to pick a movie I've talked about here at The Old FG Place many times, but I've never properly reviewed...folks, please give it up for...

SLAUGHTER HIGH!

A decade after a cruel prank against a fellow student went horribly awry, eight friends receive a mysterious invitation to a "private" reunion at their now-closed high school, where they come face-to-face with a frightening figure from their past. One by one, the once-popular former students fall victim to a twisted, bloody fate, and the only person laughing now is the one getting revenge.

That's the Netflix description...here's the link for those of you who get your movies in that oh so modern fashion. Me? I'll be watching a cruddy old VHS copy. It's totally appropriate.

Super psyched!!

The film: Slaughter HighThe due date: Monday, October 19

As always, email your links to me at stacieponder at gmail.com. Include a link to Final Girl in your write-up and you're GTG!

Obviously I opted to do something a little bit different this time around. Also obvious is the fact that I skimmed over a lot, and I didn't really "review" the movie much per se. Then again, I did draw an eyeless Ida Lupino, so that must be worth something!

I also just realized I forgot to use my "Private Club of The Satan's Helpers" joke. Dammit! Oh well. Next time...I'm sure there's plenty of Satanariffic flicks in Final Girl's future. Meanwhile, for more in depth talkin' and reviewin', check out the folks below. Big thanks to all who participated!